Body Swappin, Yo
by wonkasmistake
Summary: With no idea how, Dave Strider and John Egbert find themselves not only in each other's homes, but in each other's bodies. How will John handle the mind games of Bro? How will Dave handle the presence of Dad? In a generation of password locked everything, how will they reach each other and fix this? No Sburb, possible pairings later. Warnings for possible darker themes later.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I'm afraid ****I don't own these characters. However, that doodle of a cover image is mine, no matter how much it sucks.**

**AU: No Sburb.  
**

**Summary: With no idea how it came to be, Dave Strider and John Egbert find themselves not only in each other's homes, but in each other's bodies. How will John handle the mind games of Bro? How will Dave handle the presence of Dad? In a generation of password locked everything, how will they reach each other and fix this?**

* * *

**Guess What I Just Installed!**

"Dave? Dave, can you hear me yet?"

The blond's lip twitched as he watched his screen, wordlessly observing the flustered brunet that tapped rather uselessly at his keyboard for a few more moments before speaking again.

"Dave?"

Maybe it was time to quit messing around, he was starting to get bored with the silent game. Even though it was funny to watch John get more and more irritated with the piece of shit headset that he'd received earlier that day via mailbox, Dave wasn't looking forward to getting Dad Egbert involved even if it was over screen.

"Sup, bro. Is that a manga behind you?"

Just like that, the irritation was gone from the brunet's face, and his grinning expression practically filled the entire screen as he leaned toward the camera.

"Hey, it worked! Wow, can you talk again? That was so cool, I thought I'd never hear your voice!"

John looked exactly how the blond didn't expect him to. Of course, he had seen a picture before, but it was a tiny out-dated box from one of John's old QuiltWithUs! pages and too blurry to determine any significant features. But now he saw his friend clearly, noting the dark rectangular glasses, messy black hair, and somewhat large front teeth that he had already known about. But he hadn't known about John's somewhat chubby cheeks, nor how he parted his hair so strangely or had blue eyes. Dave wondered why he had never asked.

"Chill out, man, damn. I know it's a lot to take in, me being ill as hell and shit. Now move so I can check out that boy love manga behind you. Is it kawaii?"

Now it felt more like their typed conversations. John began to laugh, spinning around in his desk chair so that he could retrieve the subject of Dave's attention. "It's just Naruto, pretty cool, huh?" Dave's view of his best friend's room was suddenly blocked out by the orange haired ninja. "I've only seen a few episodes, but I found this beauty at a yard sale for a dollar! Maybe I can get into it- Wow, Dave, you need to clean your room!" The brunet was squinting into the camera, trying to decipher the dark outlines behind his friend.

Dave already knew what he was seeing; his bed sheets were rumpled and half on the floor, homemade desk cluttered with various items that mostly pertained to his taste in music, and there was likely plenty of laundry on the floor considering it was a week into summer vacation. But at least he didn't have any shitty swords or smuppets laying around.

"Only three minutes into video chatting with my most bro of bros, and he's nagging me about my room. That hurts right here," the blond said with a pat over where his heart sat.

Video chatting wasn't as awkward as he thought it would be. It was awesome to know that his best friend wasn't some sort of forty year old pedophile trying to lure him into a trap all of these years. Dave didn't tend to speak a lot, so this sort of verbal exchange really tested his voice, but John seemed to be doing most of the talking. Before he knew it, two hours had passed and it was beginning to get darker in his room. John's room underwent the same transition, albeit much less dramatically, but the excited brunet didn't seem to take any notice of it as he burnt through almost every topic that came into mind.

"... But I heard that levitating is actually impossible! Silly muggles, magicians specialize in the impossible!"

"Muggles? Dude, Harry Potter is the shit."

"Is that what it's from? I thought it just meant somebody who can't do magic, I didn't know it was from Har-"

"Not true, squibs can't do magic, either."

"-ter, huh? Ugh, I guess not. Squids don't seem to be the magical type."

"False, the Giant Squid, yo."

"What?" John's face scrunched up with confusion, but before he could try to ask again what the devil Dave was talking about, a knock sounded on his bedroom door. "Hold on, Dave, let me see what Dad wants!" The brunet left, and Dave stared at the tacky 'magic' chest that was in plain view from where the camera sat. He also took a glance at John's window to see if he could determine the neighbor's house. No such luck.

"Sorry, Dave, I have to go eat dinner! I guess we eat earlier than you Texans do, huh? Will you be online later?"

"I don't know, man, I'm pretty busy. Busting out these sick jams and raising the bar, y'know."

"Haha, yeah! Well, I'll talk to you later, Dave! See ya!" And then John was gone.

Dave cracked his knuckles and logged out as well, shutting down his computer before it overheated from the temperature as well as the exertion. He wondered if Bro was home yet. Taking John's words to stomach, the blond decided that he was hungry and began to get dressed so he could run over to the 7/11 for some snackage. It would probably be the best thing he'd eaten since school let out.

* * *

"Who were you talking to all day, son?"

John picked at his peas, mouth twisting as he considered his next words.

"Dave. And it wasn't all day, we only talked for a few hours! He looks- I don't know." Perhaps he had said too much. He didn't feel very secure giving out too much detail, his father would inevitably get involved if he offered enough. John liked to keep what he could to himself!

"He didn't look how you expected him to? Don't let your Salisbury get cold, John."

The youth winced but obediently cut off a thin piece of his steak for consumption. "I don't know how I expected him to look. I guess he looks like himself, though, whatever that means." _But he doesn't. He doesn't look like he'd be my best friend, _John thought while chewing.

"How did he look?"

"Uh. He had, um, blond hair and maybe he was tan, but it could just be the really bad lighting in his room. I think he might be tan, though, because he lives in Texas. He was wearing those glasses I gave him for his birthday, so that's pretty nice of him."

"That's good. Is David a nice boy? Did you get to meet his parents, too?"

John had to restrain a sigh from breaking through. He knew that his father was only asking because he cared, and the boy confessed that maybe he didn't talk to the man as much as he used to. But he was growing up, and John felt like he needed his father to be kept in the dark at least _sometimes._

"Dave is so cool! Or, he thinks he is- But since he's my best friend, I guess he's right! And I didn't meet anybody else except for him." The brunet didn't get into telling his father that Dave had never mentioned parents and instead was being raised by his older brother. He didn't want to confess that he had been disappointed from not meeting the man who brought Dave up, even if he didn't entirely like Bro because of the small snippets that he'd managed to strangle from Dave. He seemed really violent.

"John, don't squish your peas. I baked you a nice vanilla cake with custard filling once you're done with your dinner."

Dessert? John really wanted to talk to Dave again! With an inner sigh, the boy settled in for what was going to be at least another thirty minutes with his avid father figure and the meals that took too long to eat.

* * *

Cheetos were God's gift to the less fortunate. Dave clutched a family sized bag of original Cheetos and a gallon of apple juice in his hands, striding off toward his apartment building before he dug into his prizes. The blond's change made an uncomfortable lump in the pocket of his favorite jeans, but that just meant that he could buy more the next time he was hungry. After all, Dave wore these jeans at least three times a week.

The apartment was quiet when he entered. Bro wasn't there when he left, and he didn't expect him to return while he was gone, but one could never be too sure. Dave tread casually toward his bedroom with eyes scanning and ears wide open. He arrived to his room without incident and sat down on his bed. There wasn't much to do now that he had already updated his comic the day before, and he had already watched all of the stupid films Bro kept around the apartment for ironic purposes. John wouldn't be online any time soon since he took forever to eat, but Dave didn't have to go to sleep at a certain time. He doubted that his brother would notice him breaking it even if he did have a curfew.

Scrolling through some old Cyanide and Happiness comics just for something to do, Dave settled in to eat his supper.

* * *

"Come on, Dave, answer!" John huffed as he called his best friend yet again, eyeing the time in the corner of his screen. There was no way Dave was sleeping at eight in the evening, not when he was on summer vacation, too! "Daaaave! Dave, please, I'm going to be sent off into the final crusade. This is our final moment, our last chance!"

"You're not leaving me knocked up, frig off, bro." The voice sounded without a screen to accompany it, though the dark haired boy was too excited, as well as humiliated, to care.

"Dave! I wondered why you weren't picking up, it's not even late in your time! Why aren't you on video?" Their call was already beyond a minute long. John wondered why his best friend in the whole world wasn't letting him see him.

"I just got out the shower, and since Bro decided to figuratively fuck the laundry, I'm air drying. Looking for a peek at the buns of Strider, Egbert?"

"Ew! No way, I'm okay talking to dark."

"Too late, man. You asked and receive." The screen suddenly flickered on, and John clenched his eyes shut while his nose scrunched playfully.

"You're worse than Omegle, Dave, quit!"

"Oh my jay, Egbert, don't be such a wuss. Sometimes you act a little _too _straight, hiding something?"

"I'm not hiding anything!"

"Then let me see those fine sapphires, sugar lips."

"I'm not opening my eyes until you promise you're not naked."

"I promise I'm not naked."

John groaned loudly, though from between two of his fingers he dared to slowly crack one eye open and peer out. Dave watched him from a few inches away, looking naked.

"You promised you wouldn't be naked! Gah! My eyes need soap!"

"I'm not naked, I'm wearing boxers and a sock. You can't even see my boys, Egbert. What do you want?"

"Geez, excuse me for wanting to see my best friend again! I would have been back sooner, but Dad doesn't let me waste food or leave the table without at least tasting dessert. And he always wants to talk." John inhaled until his cheeks bloated, noisily releasing the carbon dioxide to express his exasperation. "I mean, I like to talk, but not always with my dad! And he always wants to know everything about my friends. He was asking me about your parents and stuff." He dropped the comment casually, but in all honesty, John was a bit curious about Dave's parents and hoped that he would explain without more prompt.

These hopes were for naught.

"Sounds just horrible. A full square meal, dessert, and avid conversation with an interested, caring guardian? Say that one more time, I need to record you for CPS records." Dave's flat voice made the darker haired boy flush, but his cheeks filled up in a huff. The blond just didn't understand how it felt! It felt like he had absolutely nothing sometimes.

"Yeah, yeah, okay. Anyway, where's your brother at? I kind of wanted to see him!" All John could think of was a bigger version of Dave, maybe a man with different glasses considering he had been the one to give his best friend the ones he currently wore. Speaking of which. "And when are you gonna take off those glasses? I mean, I'm flattered you're wearing them, but I want to see your face! It's not fair that everybody in Texas gets to see it, but your best friend doesn't!"

"Bro's not here. And I don't ditch the shades, man. Like nobody sees my face without these. These are my face, John."

"Come oooon! Please, Dave? I promise I won't talk to him, I just want to see what he looks like! And that's stupid, I'm not nobody. I'm your best friend!"

"Bro's not here. The shades are."

John narrowed his eyes at his best friend, trying desperately to imagine what he would look like without the dark aviators. However, it was impossible considering he didn't even know what color Dave's eyes were. Maybe they were blue, like his, or they could be brown. The boy doubted that they were green for some reason. But he didn't even know how Dave's eyes were shaped, and he had no idea what condition his eyebrows could have been in.

"Fine, don't show me. But now I'm beginning to think we're not as close as I thought we were!"

"Did you want to be closer? And all this time you've been playing the straight card, Egbert, you rascal."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it!"

Bickering with Dave kept John's mind off of Bro and his friend's face, but the brunet didn't notice until Dave logged off.

"Frig!"

* * *

John was one funny kid. Dave shrugged on a tank top while he thought about his best friend, replaying small snippets of their conversations through his head and thinking about how weird it was that he could see his friend's expressions now. And how expressive he was; the blond wondered if John was just being dramatic or actually made that many faces during regular conversations between them. He'd have to wait a few more video chats to see, though Dave imagined that John would want to keep their chats to video at least for another week.

As he sat down, Dave accidentally rustled the bag of remaining Cheetos, recalling immediately how his friend had bemoaned the torture of enduring a heartfelt meal. The blond wished that he could be punished with real food and maybe some homemade dessert. He wasn't sure how he would deal with or feel about a guardian interested in his interests, but he imagined that it wouldn't be unbearable. As he fell back into bed, the blond popped his earbuds in and closed his eyes. What did he know?

He'd like to know how it felt to be John.

* * *

Dave sure was a character! John stretched his arms above his head, popping out the kinks that formed from hours of sitting. He rose from his chair and began to search for some pajamas, carrying them with him to the washroom. He thought about Dave while he showered. The blond wasn't exactly how he imagined a best friend of his to be, but he was a cool guy and had a cool little setup with him and his brother. In fact, if Dave was telling the truth about his older brother, Bro was almost never home and seemed to rarely seek him out even when he was except for some training. John wasn't positive what all of this training was about, but it must be cool to learn how to fight!

How would he like it? John considered his father and then thought about not seeing him so much. It would probably be really lonely. Then again, Dave saw his brother enough for the elder to leave an impression, so John was sure that he could see Dad enough to not get annoyed with him so much and probably have a healthier relationship. It must be cool to have so much independence and freedom! Toweling off and getting dressed in his soft cotton pajamas, the brunet bounced over toward his room and laid in bed to pick up on his manga time. But his mind just kept buzzing about Dave and what the blond might have been doing at that time. What he wanted, that was for sure!

He'd like to know how it felt to be Dave.

**Blegh, I'm tired. New chapter likely for tomorrow.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I don't care that I'm late, I care that it's done(not the story, but the chapter). I do not own these characters, and I never asked to.  
Note that I'm using the actual bedrooms of the boys as much as I can, though not all details are shown of either. So I am leaving some up to guesswork.**

**Trigger Warning(s): child abuse (not explicit, mostly implied), self-consciousness.**

* * *

**Body Swappin, Yo**

Summer vacation sure was a bully! John groaned internally, fully aware that to do so in a vocal manner would result in him accepting himself awake. He simply wasn't prepared for such responsibility. However, the sun's light was obnoxiously bright for some reason, and his side held a dull ache to it. He must have slept wrong, and Dad probably moved the curtains earlier that morning so that he wouldn't stay in too much. But his window was at the foot of his bed, John didn't understand why it felt like it was hitting him directly.

The Washingtonian turned to enjoy the other side of his bed and was met with curious relief as the light seemed to dim a marginal degree; unfortunately, this turn caused his side to throb so unpleasantly that he scrunched his face. Had he hurt himself on accident? Slept on something hard? John didn't want to shift and experience it again, so he simply did his best to relax. Burrowing into his sheets, which felt strangely thin and didn't have the fluff he was accustomed to, the brunet inhaled the scent of earth and firewood.

That was strange.

Ten minutes of stubbornly laying in bed and waiting for sleep to overtake him was enough. John finally relented to the feeling of his bladder, though he failed to immediately notice that the need wasn't as urgent as it typically was. The boy opened his eyes to inspect his door and far off dresser.

Except that there was a wall where the other half of his bedroom should have been.

John wasn't concerned. _Did I sleep upside down? _the boy wondered idly. It didn't happen often, but John could be quite- His wall was blue. Why was the wall in front of him white? The brunet blinked a few times as though that would restore the color of his bedroom, but then he felt chills run through his body. The wall in front of him was still white, and the sight burned his sleepy eyes.

_Is this Dad's room? _he cooked up deliriously. A sudden lurch of his bladder and there was no more time to consider it. John quickly scrambled out of bed -_Was I wearing a tank top last night?- _and hustled out into the corridor that left both of the two bedrooms-

-only to see that he was in a completely foreign house.

_What the... it's a mess in here!_

There were wires and puppets everywhere. He saw a kitchen filled with questionable items, large television, futon, and why were all of these music devices here? John's eyebrows furrowed in utmost confusion as he tiptoed toward one of two doors, and he was relieved that it happened to be the restroom. Albeit, it was quite a cramped restroom with puppets crammed inside. There was no time to dwell on that, though, his bladder felt like it would explode!

John looked down at hi- What the hell? Whose clothes were these? He was sure that he didn't wear grey tank tops nor sweats to bed, and red socks? Who owned red socks? If his bladder didn't feel like it would explode in four seconds, and the renewed pain in his side making his bladder needs somehow more urgent, the brunet would have done a more thorough examination of himself. As it was, he shoved down the-

"Gah!" he shouted in alarm, swerving to address the blond figure he could have swore he saw to his right. "I'm sorry, I- What the.." John didn't even feel the warm urine that flowed down his leg to puddle. He was too busy staring into wide red eyes. Wide red eyes that happened to be perched on the naked face of a mister Dave Strider. A naked-faced Dave Strider in a mirror.

* * *

When did it become so cold and dark? Dave Strider, a resident Texan at heart as well as body, felt several different types of offense as he was forced to endure the frigid weather that came out of fuck-all-nowhere. His limbs tucked themselves into the obscenely soft blanket on top of him, and the blond grit his teeth in a minor scowl. However, something felt off about his teeth. He was probably just grinding them in his sleep, though it didn't happen very often. Maybe it was his body's natural reaction to the damned ice berg of freezing that invaded his room. The blond didn't hear his fan on, so at least that was a fortunate plus. Then again, with his luck, Bro just didn't pay the electricity bill.

How much apple juice did he drink last night? The blond frowned at the intense pressure that weighed on his bladder, forcing his eyes open as he reluctantly dragged himself from the warm bed. However, Dave reached a bit of a pickle when he found himself shoved up against a wall instead of on his feet. Huh. He could have swore that his walls were white, or at least they had been white at some point. When did they turn into a light blue hue from Walmart's shitty selection?

Dave sat up and went around the other way, except now he was sure that there were some serious shenanigans going on. What kind of awful hell had he woken up to? These posters were from the Devil himself, and no way would Dave ever permit a stack of what looked like shitty anime comics on his bedroom drawers. Not that these could have been his bedroom anyway; as incredible as Bro seemed to be, there was no way he could have constructed a whole new bedroom in such a short amount of time. And that magic chest on the other side of the room seemed a bit too familiar for his liking, though the blond didn't see how or why he would be in the bedroom of John Egbert. Maybe he was still dreaming. But his bladder seemed to disagree with that.

"Damn it," swore the teen as he stumbled out of the bed and left behind the mystery bedroom. "Okay, no. This is not cool." The house was way too bright. Dave's eyes watered a bit, though he rubbed at them with impatience while breaking into a stride to find the restroom. There was a door a short staircase to his right. He doubted it would be up the obstacle, so he went left instead and found himself peeking down an intersecting corridor that had two doors. Which one was likely to lead him to a toilet? No time, better go with the reading style.

Entering the door on the left, he found himself in a somewhat spacious washroom that had a tub. Strange sight for him considering he'd never had a tub since he outgrew the kitchen sink. But, dismissing the tub for a moment, there was a perfectly adept toilet right in front of him. The toilet seat made a loud sound as it whacked the porcelain with his amount of force. Dave shoved down the strange bedclothes that he had found himself in and reached a sort of dilemma.

Namely, he came to see that he was the hopefully ephemeral owner of a foreign anatomy. His facade slipped for brief moment as horror set in. "What the fuck?" Dave muttered in disbelief, and he nearly lost his control right then. Thankfully, the urea cycle was understanding to his situation and waited until the post-blond could aim before letting loose.

Damn, it felt weird to be holding another man's junk while pissing. Dave did his best to not touch it once he was finished, stretching the green boxers out to slip on rather than tucking himself in. He had to get down to business immediately. These weren't his hands, and nor were those his feet or.. _that _his penis. The pubic hair wasn't even the same shade as his. The cool kid mask didn't waver despite the growing mental hysteria that arose. Dave locked his teeth again before realizing with a start that these _weren't_ his teeth.

Breathe.

He shut his eyes tight and then opened them again. Everything was the same. Dave's eyes narrowed in his distress, and he finally took two steps back from the toilet and looked into the mirror.

John Egbert stared back at him.

"What the fuck? John?" Dave touched the mirror. Nothing. He touched what should have been his cheek. The warm fingers were longer than his had been, but they were reflected in the mirror just the same. He realized why everything was a bit more blurry than usual, but he couldn't be bothered to go retrieve any glasses while he was stuck in the body of his best friend. It had to be a dream. The newly turned brunet pinched his forearm aggressively. It hurt something awful, but he didn't wake up. The mark that his new fingers left behind were bright and angry.

Bright and angry like the marks that Dave often sported after a strife.

Shit, the strifes! If Dave was in John's body, who was to say that John wasn't in Dave's? And if that was the case, what would happen if he had to face Bro or the creepy neighbor or Lil Cal? And how did this happen anyway? Was the universe just determined to fuck him up and over?

The brunet's face was eerie without all of the expressions that Dave had adapted to over the last day. He was just inspecting the difference in color between them when he choked on another frightening thought.

John must have seen his eyes by now. Dave didn't sleep with his shades on.

He was so fucked.

**Author's Note: It is quite short, but I didn't like where I left it off originally and I refuse to miss my deadline trying to shove two chapters into one. I've decided that I'll likely post the next chapter later today to make up for it and really get around to Dave and Dad/possibly John and Bro.**

**Review any suggestions or requests or just comments!**


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